Stockholm Syndrome
by Amends to the Living
Summary: Damon is bored without his ring and decides to inflict havoc on some poor, unsuspecting teenagers. What happens when he finds Caroline instead of Vicki? An AU twist focusing on the Camon/Daroline dynamics.
1. Chapter 1

There was always something so bittersweet and intoxicating about the way that his fangs pierced her flesh. The one-sided exchange of her crimson life source that often left her weak at the knees, her every thought fleeting from her mind as it all faded to black somewhere between her cries of pain and his guttural growls. She should have seen it coming. Just like every other teenage boy, he took what he wanted and then he went back to ignoring her existence at his whim, as if nothing ever occurred between them. But he was no teenage boy.

It was sweet at first, back when she'd bragged about him to Elena about being with the better brother, but Caroline soon came to realize the dangerous mess in which she'd fallen into. One that she only understood for a few moments at a time, before his eyes would stare right through her, piercing her mortal soul while whispering sweet nothings into her ear. His low, husky tone controlling her, robbing her of free will, and not allowing her to think for herself.

But like any other relationship, it always started off the same way. Fleeting glances from a distance, though Caroline's eyebrows often furrowed towards the middle when he disappeared in the blink of an eye. Then one night she took him home, because he was a stud and she wouldn't be caught dead passing up this opportunity… more emphasis on the _dead_ later.

Or maybe she was just lonely and needed something to call hers. Her misery was her own. So was her longing, even if it was for someone that continued to hurt her, only offering her material gifts that would serve to protect his own identity instead of truly being thoughtful. But she didn't need him to be original. In fact, she didn't really expect much from him at all.

As time passed, Caroline wondered if their displays of public affection were because he actually gave a damn, or just for show. Maybe it was even a ploy for Elena… it wouldn't surprise her very much if it were, since she already had it all. She'd tried not to notice the way that he looked at Elena and Stefan when they were together, confirming her doubts. At first she thought that it was just a sibling rivalry, but there was just this… this _way_ that he looked at Elena.

Damon _never_ looked at her like that, no matter how much she gave to him, even when it was everything she had.

Caroline often wondered what made Elena so special. For it was no big secret that she'd first pursued the younger Salvatore, tossing him flirty smiles here and there, as her heart swelled with the hope that he'd look her way. Just once. Just long enough to make her feel like she was worth something to someone, even if she fooling no one other than herself. But no, Stefan was always interested in Elena and she knew at some point that it was useless to try to change fate.

It was always someone else, it was never her. Maybe that's why she'd allowed Damon to play these games with her, because for once, Caroline wanted someone to look at _her_ like that. She wanted someone to want her. Even if it was because she was simple, or for the way that her blonde tresses fell over her shoulders when she set them loose after cheerleading practice, or the dimming light in her eyes when she smiled the smile of a broken girl.

Even now as she tasted the earth that stuck to the corner of her parted lips and her hair, there was still a semblance of a smile on her doll-like face. Crooked and imperfect.

* * *

It was the worst—and possibly the most _boring_—feeling in the world to be like a tamed animal. Dominated by the sun without his ring, Damon had been kept indoors at the mansion for the better part of the day without his consent. It angered him to think that his brother was out there gallivanting with Elena, as if the world was how it should be.

It wasn't. He was bitterly and utterly bored. So he quickly harvested an intense irritation for Stefan as he taunted him over the phone, not telling him where the ring was. The youngest was always playing games with him, thinking that he would win. But what Stefan didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Incase you were wondering, Damon had won tonight. He'd taken his leave after the sun set and lurked in the shadows, following a small group out to a campsite. Surely, he was already a _bit_ tipsy when he got there, but his reflexes weren't a second out of sync. He mercilessly drank from them until their lifeless bodies went limp, before moving over to the last victim.

Not a whimper or a cry. No _please_ or apologies. In fact, they didn't move at all, which caused his head to tilt curiously as he moved closer.

He should have caught her scent earlier. Maybe the smell of booze had messed with his senses, or maybe Damon had just been trying to forget. Caroline, his favorite toy, now lay sprawled out in the dirt with the worms and other lowly creatures that would never compare to her beauty. For she was a pretty face, he'd be the first to give her that. But there was also this neediness about her that fed this fantasy of an unrequited love.

After ending the call with his brother, Damon leaned down to cradle her porcelain face in the palm of his right hand, his eyes trailing over the dirt stains that now muddled her fair complexion. His fingertips were also tainted with the blood of another, but the taste could never compare to hers. He slowly reached out to touch her neck, and upon seeing that the bitemarks had already healed, his lips nearly fell into a neat frown. He was so close that Damon could almost taste her again, the way that her warmth rushed down his throat, though the other worthless corpses had satiated his thirst.

**"Never thought I'd see you so low,"** the vampire mused aloud as he stared down at her fragile form, half-tempted to leave her there for the so-called wolves that lurked these forests and had been causing the recent attacks. But he knew that her mother was an officer of the law. The bloodlust fled from his eyes as they returned to normal from their blackened state.

Caroline had been so quiet before he arrived, already passed out from her _terribly_ low tolerance for alcohol. After the other two bodies were soaked in the very substance that their pathetic lives thrived on to escape the horrors of high school, Damon lit a match and brought it up to his eye level, the small flame in between his fingers playing shadows across his ghastly pale face, before he tossed it towards them in one swift flick of his wrist.

Picking up the petite blonde into his arms easily with a low grunt (more out of hesitance than any real effort), Damon stumbled back to the mansion. It would be light out soon and he didn't need her involved in a crime scene, whether it was for selfish reasons (like possessiveness) or not. Damon had managed to convince himself in his stupor state that she witnessed some of his attack and because she no longer wanted to see him again (or so she _claimed_), then she'd spill the beans. But perhaps there were still a few words left unsaid between them.

She was as light as a feather as Damon hummed to an old song playing in his head on his way back home, unaware that it had been playing during one of the first times that they'd slept together during their secret, deadly affair.


	2. Chapter 2

Damon easily unlocked the front door, not by knocking and waiting patiently like every other living creature, but by kicking it in. He would have attracted less attention to himself in this euphoric haze--called 'being drunk' to most common mortals--if he had any use of his hands to his disposal, but Caroline Forbes was currently occupying them. One might find this unfortunate, if the elder Salvatore wasn't such a womanizer. Oh, he knew what he was doing… but I guess that's easy for someone who _always_ does what he wants.

Nudging the door closed behind him with his shoulder, his bright blue eyes immediately searched the place for any intruders or signs of his younger brother. Either would be taken as a threat at this point: strangers for more obvious reasons and Stefan because he was… well, such a buzzkill.

Walking over to the couch in the living room with his usual swagger and a hint of a stumble in his step from the booze, Damon leaned forward to lower the alabaster skinned teenager into the sinking cushions. This, however, was hindered two seconds too much by the fact that Caroline had subconsciously wrapped her arms around him, her cool fingertips slipping through the small hairs on the back of his neck while in her deep slumber. His lips parted to utter something between an amused sigh and a few curse words, reaching up behind him begrudgingly to remove the offending, yet oddly soothing hand.

Staring down at her now with their bodies no longer touching, Damon couldn't help but feel a strong sense of control wash over him as his taller frame hovered over her slumped, but fragile form. Her blonde tresses were splayed around her, as if he was staring dead straight into the sun. Sometimes if he watched her for too long, his eyes would start to hurt. Sometimes he wondered how she could shine so brightly without exploding.

And then other times, Damon wondered why he _still_ had such thoughts when he was drunk, even now as a vampire.

Shaking his head, he carelessly left her body there as he went out in search for more booze. He was sure that they had plenty in the liquor cabinet, unless broody Stefan finally decided to be a little more fun and down a few before his outing tonight, wherever he was. Opening the wooden doors, his blue eyes narrowed slightly as they moved over the labels of the old wines and whiskeys. They were all there, just as he thought. The corner of his lips curling up into a steadfast smirk, Damon triumphantly muttered, **"Mmm, didn't think so,"** before grabbing the neck of a bottle for himself.

* * *

Her eyes fluttering open slowly, Caroline groaned gently as the things in her peripheral vision started to blur into focus. But the more they did, the less she could piece together where she was. Her hands reached out to search around her blindly, her palms sliding across the fine, smooth material of the couch that must have been a Salvatore trait as the blonde slowly moved into a sitting position.

As soon as she did, however, her eyebrows furrowed as she picked up on the sound of music. No, not the cute musical. In fact, it wasn't cute at all when it caused a pang in her head, as if her hangover was leaving her a rain check to cash in the next morning. Reaching up to wipe off some dirt from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, Caroline turned her head this way and that, trying desperately to search for the source of the ruckus.

Leaning forward to rest the bottom of her feet against the cold floor, she immediately felt goosebumps forming on the surface of her skin, but the chill wasn't caused from the change in temperature. It wasn't even the fact that she didn't know where she was or how she got there in the first place.

No, it was the handsome _devil going on kidnapper_ that was suddenly standing right infront of her, giving her _that_ look with his piercing icy blue gaze. The look that told her that she wasn't going anywhere. Yes, the same look that had promised her so many things, but never abided to any of them. And that look that Stefan Salvatore never gave her, because she wasn't pretty enough, or smart enough, or just not his type.

_That_ look that made her fall in love with him all over again, even if for him it always seemed like a game that he would never lose.

Was it stupid for her to think that this time it would be different? That for once Damon would _actually_ say what was on his mind, instead of controlling hers to avoid any questions that he didn't want to answer? Maybe. But then again, love never seemed to make much sense to the girl with a broken smile, if this was even love at all. Whatever it was, he seemed very determined not to lose it, and far be it for her to convince him of the lie that she no longer wanted to see him.

**"Damon… what is that _awful_ noise? What are we doing here?"** she asked him rhetorically, knowing that the vampire would never humor her. Her tone was alot softer and weaker than she hoped it would be, escaping her lips like a silent plea that never needed to be answered. Just like unrequited love.

* * *

He had been watching her longer than she thought, taking in her striking qualities with every swig off the bottle that he took. It was like playing a game of 'drink every time you see something you like,' except that those thoughts would never leave his mind. That same dark mind that often didn't take a big role in planning out his impulsively destructive behavior, like when he snapped someone's neck or brought someone home for the night. You see, he was under the impression that living forever meant being too old for consequences... no one else seemed willing to correct him just yet.

As soon as he saw the first signs of her awakening, Damon had decided to speed up the process a little bit. Call him selfish, even to his face if you want, but he was getting rather _bored_ watching her sleep the night away. She would have plenty of time for that later... hopefully, she just wouldn't start one of her beauty sleep rants, because quite honestly, he wasn't in the mood to hear it.

But instead, Caroline simply took in her surroundings before she even spotted him. Sometimes he forgot that his senses were far more advanced than hers. He would be able to tell if there was another vampire in the room with his eyes closed. It could simply be the sound of their fangs scraping together or the scent of blood on their clothing, but Damon liked to make himself believe that he would never be caught by surprise.

So when Caroline started the same old song and dance, it was all he could do not to roll his eyes at her dismissively. He never liked to give out the final act without a show. What was the fun in that? She must have known it by now though, as she fell silent soon after speaking and simply stared at him. It was always in her nature to bicker with him, it seemed. Maybe it ran in her veins, but he noticed her apprehension far before she ever parted those full lips. Her fear always fed him, but unless he could have a taste, it always left him feeling a little bit short of high.

**"Shh,"** he whispered in his husky, low tone as he brought his hand up to her mouth, his index finger pressing firmly against her lips before his thumb tugged down gently on her lower lip. **"You'll miss the party… I'm sure you wouldn't want to do that, now would you?"** His thumb grazed across her mouth, causing her to shiver at his cold touch.

However, Damon seemed satisfied by this and quickly withdrew his hand, leaving her starstruck and transfixed on his form, which she soon realized was bare from the waist up. Her bright eyes lowered sheepishly as a light blush formed on her cheeks, though her real intention was to avoid falling under his spell again… and maybe scope over his abdomen on the way down… just a little.

It wasn't long before he was gone from the view again, which was just like him to disappear right after drawing her in.

* * *

Author's Notes: Thanks for all the great reviews! This has been the first time that I've done something of this sort, so it's been great being so well-received. I hope to update more often, especially now that Season 1 of Vampire Diaries is coming to an end. Gotta get a Damon fix somewhere, right?


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